


Blood to Blood

by silverspidertm2



Category: Dark Wolverine (Comics), Wolverine (Comics), X-23 (Comic), X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Cutting, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Harm, Sibling Bonding, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:43:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3233285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverspidertm2/pseuds/silverspidertm2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The word 'family' had never held any positive connotations for Daken. Until now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood to Blood

**Author's Note:**

> My first X-Men fic in forever, so be gentle. I’ve been a long time fan and follower of X-23 and as my Batman fic readers know, I’m a sucker for family dramas. Imagine my giddiness when I read the Death of Wolverine comics and watched her interact with Daken for the first time since their awesome crossover in Collision. Takes place a few months post Wolverines #2 May or may not have more of these, depending on feedback. Enjoy!

The thing about Laura was, she was a baby.

At least as far as Daken was concerned.

Not in the sense that she cried a lot – that almost never happened – or that she was immature – she was probably more mature than him in some ways – but considering he was technically pushing seventy, his sister seemed... well, she was his _baby_ sister which made it hard not to feel irritated when she nagged him to be careful or got between him and whoever he’d picked a fight with. Yes, he knew he was short an arm, an eye, and a healing factor these days, but being defended by a little girl was just humiliating.

The other problem was that, while not totally devoid of empathy as most people thought, it didn’t come easy to him. They’d gotten into a screaming match at one point – Daken couldn’t remember what had started it – and Laura had pointed out that just because he’d suffered in the past didn’t mean he had to take it out on everyone else. He wasn’t sure if it was her tone, too calm and reasonable, or the fact that in his eyes she still looked so very, _very_ young.

“What the hell do you even know about it?” he snapped. “You think you had it bad at the Facility for, what? Fourteen years? Fifteen? That’s _nothing_! You have to be real to begin with to suffer at all, clone girl.”

Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Daken wished he really was as cold as everyone believed. Laura went perfectly still, the only indication of the blow a slight dilation of pupils and flaring of nostrils. She didn’t scream or cry as he feared or attack him as he hoped, just turned on her heel and walked back into the room of the safe house that had become hers of the last few months. He was hoping that Laura would at least slam the door, but she didn’t.

 _Hell of a job there_ , a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like a strange cross of Logan and Romulus mocked him. _Getting off on torturing little girls now, are we?_

 _No_ , Daken shook his head. _I didn’t mean it._

Intentional or not, instead of being a man and actually apologizing to his sister instead of a the phantom of a dead man, he went out. If it was a few months ago, he might have found some trendy club, picked up a drink, and likely someone pretty to fuck for the night or mascaraed a few dozen people who deserved it. Admittedly, Daken’s definition of ‘deserved it’ was rather loose.

But losing his healing factor, then arm and eye had changed him. If he were honest, Daken would have admitted he’d started to change before that. Romulus’ creation wouldn’t have bothered to give a proper funeral to the father he’d spent all his life despising. And whenever he tried to narrow down the moment the change started, Daken would have guessed it was after Madripoor, the first time he met Laura.

“Why do you limit yourself?” she had asked. He hadn’t understood the question, so she went on. “You care about power, but that is something you already have. Power comes easy to you. But you choose not to care. You limit your heart. I do not know why. Unless you think caring for others is more dangerous than seeking power.”

Daken had hated the question and wanted desperately to hate her as well. To his annoyance, he found he couldn’t. Instead he told her that he didn’t have a heart, that power was all he had or needed. Neither statement was really true anymore.

He came back to the safe house after circling the block just once, fully intending to at least attempt to express how sorry he was. That apology died on the tip of his tongue as soon as he opened the door. He might have lost his healing factor but not his superb nose, and the metallic scent of iron was so overwhelming that Daken had to stop in the doorway, other senses on high alert for danger.

_Blood!_

He couldn’t detect anything else and followed the smell to Laura’s room. The door was left unlocked, so he let himself in. Seeing his sister wasn’t there, Daken tried the knob to the adjacent bathroom. That was locked.

“Laura?” He knocked. The only answer was the hasty opening of a shower and the gushing sound of water. The scent of blood grew fainter, which made Daken even more nervous. “I know you’re in there, kid. At the risk of sounding like a cliché, if you don’t open this door, I’m breaking it down.”

The door, of course, stayed closed. _Oh well_. He never liked that door anyway. Daken twisted the knob sharply until there was a snap of metal and splintering of wood and left it hanging loosely in the hole in the door. Laura’s bathroom was small, with just a shower instead of a full bath. She was sitting on the tiled floor, knees tucked tightly against her chest, and though she tucked herself into the furthest corner away from the shower, her hair and clothes were well on their way to completely soaked.

There was also a diluted but still unmistakable riverlet of blood flowing from where she sat. Her face, however, was completely dry.

“Shit.” Headless of the still-flowing water, he scrambled to her and awkwardly garbed her deceptive delicate wrists with his one hand. “What did you do?”

The wide X marks on the insides of her arms were already pink and fading, but they still spoke – shouted – volumes. Daken let out a string if curses in several languages. Laura swiped at her nose with the back of her hand and gave a small shrug.

“It’s not like it does not heal.”

“And when one fine day it doesn’t? When you cut yourself up so much and so deep that you actually bleed out?” Daken objected, outraged. “The hell is wrong with you?!”

Laura didn’t answer, and he could visibly see her falling deeper and deeper into herself. He had a vague memory of the knowledge that Laura used to cut, but he’d never actually seen her do it until now and had no idea how to deal with it. He wondered if Logan had known. If he did, he should have helped Laura years ago, and if he didn’t... he should’ve known! Damn it all, Daken wasn’t even supposed to be here! Their father was supposed to be doing this, not him. But then Logan wouldn’t have ever said the crap Daken had, the crap that had no doubt triggered this episode.

Rising momentarily to turn off the shower, he sat back down on the floor next to her. For a long time the two of them sat in silence, with Daken occasionally glancing over at his sister’s arms to make sure that they were actually healing. He looked back at his own hand... his one remaining hand.

“I’m sorry.” His eyes were fixed on the wet tiles. “I know you you don’t have any reason to believe me. You _shouldn’t_ believe me, but I _am_ sorry.”

His sister tilted her head slightly and fixed him with her bright green - how she ended up with green eyes, Daken had no idea - gaze. To anyone else it might have looked as if his words hadn’t sunk in or that she was ignoring him or being defiant, but he knew none of that was true. She was simply waiting for him to continue. Laura’s typically quiet, observant ways seemed odd to most people, but he understood her and she him. Sometimes Daken felt that she was the only person in the world that did.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” he tried. That was true enough. The very brief time he’d seen has as something… lesser was when they had first met in Madripoor, and even that didn’t last long. Within the span of a day she went from ’clone’ to ’Laura’ and it had stayed that way until one day she became ’sister.’

“Why do you say things you do not mean?” the question was earnest, mildly curious. Laura was very straight-forward, and he had a feeling she didn’t understand why anyone might not be.

“Because I was angry...” _And sometimes I think you want me to be Dad, and I’m not. I can’t be._ “Tell you what, if I lose it again like that again, you point those claws of yours my way instead of here.” He ran his fingers across the now-smooth skin of her left arm.

Laura all-but rolled her eyes. “Don’t be stupid. You would not survive.”

“Ouch! No faith in your big brother, I see.”

“Not conveniently forget you are mortal now? No. None.”

“Okay, okay I get the message.” He wrapped his arm around her. “Look, how about I promise to try to be less stupid - about everything - and you promise not to hurt yourself anymore. There’s enough people out there trying to do that. No reason to help them.”

She seemed to consider it. “I can promise to try.”

“I’ll take it.” He hugged her a bit awkwardly, then rose and pulled a towel from the hanger and tossed it to her. “Alright, get dressed. We’re going out for dinner.”

“Where?”

“Wherever you want. It’s on me.”

“What if I want a cheeseburger?”

Daken tried not to wince. “As long as it’s a five star cheeseburger.”

Laura’s lips turned slightly, and he realized she was making fun of him. “Noodles and dim sum? Extra spicy.”

He grinned. “You’re a good sister.”

“I know.”

Daken snorted, resisting the ridiculous urge to tousle her hair, and was just in the doorway, ready to leave and gave her time to dry off and change, but Laura caught his wrist. Turning back, he was surprised at how open and earnest her face appeared.

“You are a good brother too, Daken. I forgive you.”

He was still staring at the door even as it shut in front of him. _A good brother?_ He’d been called a good fighter, killer, even strategist before, and he’d utterly failed at being a good son - though to be fair, neither Romulus nore Logan were exactly stellar examples of fatherhood. _Could_ he be a good brother? Laura seemed to think so, even if Daken didn’t believe he’d given her any reason for it.

 _What the hell_ , he shrugged. It didn’t hurt to try.

 


End file.
